Epilogue
ONE WEEK LATER
“Ye look so bonnie,” Abigail said, staring at Marissa with wide eyes.
Somewhere in the room behind her, Freya sniffed as she choked back her tears.
“Are ye cryin’ again?” Marissa let out a chuckle, looking over her shoulder and finding that, indeed, Freya was once again crying.
“It’s the bairn,” Freya argued, pointing at her protruding belly. “Ye ken it’s comin’ any day now. And the wee thing wants me weepin’ over everythin’. I cannae help it.”
“She cried over how lovely yer flowers looked this morning,” Ayla chimed in from the settee by the window, prompting Amara, who was sitting beside her, to laugh.
“Ye ken I like daisies,” Freya quipped. “It’s nae a crime to think that lovely things are worth sheddin’ a tear over from time to time.”
“Speakin’ of lovely,” Abigail said pointedly, clearly trying to steer the conversation away from anything that would get their sister going again. “Ye are lookin’ quite well, Amara. Do ye think ye’ll be savin’ a dance for Cody after the weddin’?”
The apples of Amara’s cheeks turned pink, and she lowered her eyes. It had been an open secret in the castle for the last week that Cody and Amara’s affection for one another had grown. But no one had brought it up. And now that someone had, every eye in the room turned to Amara.
“I dinnae want to assume,” the young maid stammered. “He’s made his intentions clear. But I dinnae think… I am just… I cannae…” she trailed off as Freya crossed the room, reaching down to take one of the young woman’s hands in her own.
Amara’s lips dropped open in surprise, her blue eyes going wide as she turned her gaze up to Freya.
Marissa’s throat tightened as she watched the exchange, the very clear affection between the two women.
Freya’s voice was soft and filled with love when she spoke.
“If ye’re sayin’ that ye want to be with me stepson,” she said, “then ye have me permission. And I ken that me husband will agree. I see what ye’ve done for me sister.
How ye and Ayla welcomed her into this castle and made her feel at home.
We already think of everyone here as family.
So, it would be an honor to have ye two make our family ties official. ”
“I dinnae ken if that’s what he wants,” Amara stammered, her eyes suddenly doubtful.
“I do,” Freya answered, her lips stretching into a grin. “He asked both me and his faither about it this mornin’. We were goin’ to tell ye both after the weddin’, but I dinnae want ye worryin’ about it until then.”
Amara’s expression shifted then. Where doubt and insecurity had been, there was suddenly joy. It transformed her face. Her round cheeks looked as if they might split with the force of her smile.
“We’re happy to have ye,” Abigail added, giving her a bright and welcoming smile before turning her attention back to Marissa. “But now, we have other matters to attend to.”
Everyone nodded, and then the room was filled with a flurry of activity as the final touches were put on Marissa’s hair.
I am gettin’ married today.
The thought had been the only thing echoing in her mind since she’d opened her eyes that morning.
After the altercation with Eric and his men, Marissa and Arthur agreed to postpone the wedding. However, neither of them had wanted to wait for too long.
The most that anyone had been able to talk them into was three additional days. One week from the day Eric had shown up.
It was just long enough that neither of their injuries were bothering them anymore. And neither Marissa nor Arthur had been able to wait any longer than that.
When the final flower was placed in her hair and a sash was draped around her neck, the women in her chambers started ushering her out the door.
“Late to yer own weddin’.” Freya tsked with a shake of her head. “Can ye imagine?”
“I am nae late!” Marissa argued.
But when everyone else chimed in with an “aye, ye are,” she realized that maybe they were right.
She was ushered out the front door and into a waiting carriage.
Just as she and Arthur had discussed, their wedding would take place by the loch, near the cave. It was evening, the sun slowly making its final descent for the evening so that the glow worms could bless them as they promised themselves to one another.
Over the last week, Arthur had had his men clear the way so that the carriages could arrive. And it was not long at all before the loch came into view.
At the sight of it, and of the man standing just at the water’s edge, Marissa’s breath hitched.
Arthur’s eyes were fixed on the carriage, and as they drew closer, their gazes met.
Everything else vanished from Marissa’s mind. The voices of those speaking to her, the noise and activity as she was ushered out of the carriage and down onto the sand… none of it reached her ears. She was focused entirely on Arthur, and he on her.
Their clans stood around them, making an aisle that led her to her future husband. And as Michael led her down it, the sound of the bagpipes filling the air, Marissa could not get to Arthur fast enough.
Councilman Shaw stood beside Arthur, having previously agreed to be the one to marry them. He waited patiently as she made her way down the aisle, and when she finally stopped beside her groom, the ceremony began.
“Today, we join nae just two families, but two clans,” Shaw called out, his voice ringing out clearly over the crowd. “Two clans that will make each other stronger, just as our bride and groom make each other stronger.”
Marissa tuned him out, focusing on Arthur. She did not want to take her eyes off of him. Did not want to think of anything else other than promising herself to him and beginning their life together.
Eventually, Shaw reached down, grabbing one of Marissa’s hands and one of Arthur’s and guiding them together. Marissa clung to Arthur, her hand curling around his wrist and his around hers, as was tradition.
The handfasting cord was produced—a mix of beautiful, richly died strings interwoven to form a thick, unbreakable cord that was then placed over their joined hands. Shaw twisted the thing, wrapping it around their wrists, binding them together for the rest of their lives.
“Just as ye cannae distinguish one fiber on this cord from another,” Shaw said, “ye cannae separate husband from wife. And to symbolize that a wet knot is harder to untie, we will christen this bond here today.”
He bent and dipped a ceremonial bowl into the water, before turning and pouring the water over their bound hands. The water was cold, sending a pleasant thrill through Marissa as it splashed over her and then landed on the sand at her feet.
“It is with this cord,” Shaw called out, “with this tie that binds, before the God that created us, and the clans that sustain us, I now pronounce ye man and wife. Ye may kiss yer bride.”
Arthur’s grin widened, and he leaned forward. Their hands still clasped, the cord still bound, he pulled her to him.
Marissa laughed as their mouths pressed together, their clans yelling and cheering as they shared their affection with the world. They broke apart, Marissa smiling so hard that she felt her cheeks might split, before turning her attention to the crowd.
As the handfasting cord was removed, the knot that bound them still firmly in place for them to display on their bedchamber, the bagpipes started again.
Music and cheers filled the air, while Abigail, Freya, Amara, and Ayla threw flower petals. They floated on a soft breeze, decorating everything around them.
The glow began emanating from the cave, the sun finally having sunk low enough that the glow worms could be seen.
Happiness like Marissa had never known began to expand within her chest, warming her from the inside out.
Arthur threw an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. He bent his head, lowering his mouth to her ear.
“I love ye, wife,” he said, his breath stirring the hair by her ears and making her giggle. “And I cannae wait to get ye back to our chambers and claim ye. For real, this time.”
“Ye’ve claimed me before,” she pointed out, turning and giving him a wink. But her sassy tone did little to dampen the thrill that ran through her.
“Ye’ve nae experienced anythin’ like this,” Arthur quipped, returning her wink with one of his own.
They had bedded each other every night since the day they’d fought off Eric and his men. And each time seemed to be better than the last.
And from the way her husband was looking at her now, she did not doubt that that evening, when they finally made their way to their chambers and lay with one another, this time would be no different.
“There will be plenty of time for that later,” she said, grabbing his hand and tugging him toward where a small group had begun to dance. “But for now, we celebrate.”
Arthur didn’t fight against her as she dragged him after her, the two immediately falling into a rhythm as they began to dance.
Marissa laughed as he spun her around. Her husband really had gotten much better at dancing.
As her stomach flipped and she moved to the sound of the music, surrounded by the people she loved most in this world, she did not know how life could get any better than this.
But she and Arthur had the rest of their lives to figure it out. And she had no doubt that they would spend every waking moment doing exactly that.
The End?